


Hindsight is 20/20

by FatesOfConquest



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Missing, Post Season 2, Post-Endgame, blood mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-05-28 01:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15038087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatesOfConquest/pseuds/FatesOfConquest
Summary: They should have checked up on him.Four months had gone by since the near cataclysm of Earth by the Reach, since the original Kid Flash’s death at the North Pole.A few days later Nightwing had dropped off of the grid, communications cut and Blüdhaven apartment closed to visitors. They thought it would be best to give him some space, let him come back when he was ready.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dipping back into Young Justice, my truest love. Hope everyone enjoys!~

_They should have checked up on him._

Four months had gone by since the near cataclysm of Earth by the Reach, since the original Kid Flash’s death at the North Pole.

A few days later Nightwing had dropped off of the grid, communications cut and Blüdhaven apartment closed to visitors. They thought it would be best to give him some space, let him come back when he was ready.

_They should have pushed harder._

The first hint was a missed birthday. Tim Drake’s,  the current Robin’s birthday to be precise. July 19th came and past without so much as a mumble from Dick, uncharacteristic but understandable in the wake of such a tragedy. It didn’t sit well with Tim but he didn’t pursue it.

There was nothing to say.

_They should have found something._

Crime statistics in Blüdhaven became more volatile, some weeks the arrests were record setting for the city, others days would pass without a sound from their vigilante.

This time the stretch was longer, almost a week.

_Why did they let this happen?_

The breaking point came on November 11th.

_It’s Wally’s, was Wally’s, birthday._

Artemis was tired of it. Tired of the heartache, the pitying looks, the lonely bed and house. But she put up with it, she was getting better, slowly and painfully, but better nonetheless.

But she wasn’t well enough to spend today without one of her closest friends, one of _his_ closest friends, especially not because of his self-imposed exile. As if it was all his fault.

It was early morning, or late at night, depending on who you asked, when she zetaed into Blüdhaven. The hideout was unused since the team had moved to the Watchtower but it still showed signs of its intense use after the destruction of Mount Justice, a handful of empty chips bags stuffed under a cot, small arsenal of practice weapons tucked about here and there.

It was a chapter in the team’s life she had missed yet one she had directly caused. The taste left in her mouth was sour at the thought.

As a distraction she pulled her phone from her pocket, walking briskly to the exit as she called Dick, knowingly in vain. It didn’t even ring this time, going straight to a strangely chipper voicemail, echoes of a different time.

The sigh is one of frustration but not surprise, similar results coming from a communicator call. She tucked that after in phone, shrugging her civvies jacket tighter around her shoulders as she slipped into the brisk city air.

The city was alive with police sirens at this hour but the main streets retained that eerie quiet of a place to public for the shadier dealings. She was uninterested in analyzing it, only lightly armed in her civilian persona. It wasn’t her city, not her place to interfere unless invited.

The walk was still familiar, there were some nights, years ago, that Artemis used to join Nightwing in the alleys and rooftops, when he was still new to the solo gig. Those same nights often ended in a movie night, Wally always late, popcorn littering the floor from good hearted fun and clumsy speedsters.

She pushed the thoughts away, ducking into a tight alley adjacent to Dick’s window. A quick glance around showed the presence of no one else and with a short sprint and jump she used the dumpster as a springboard, catching the edge of his window and pulling herself up.  

The window came open easily, uncharacteristically unlocked. As she climbed in a faint breeze stirred the curtains, a red reminiscent of his days as Robin.

The apartment was spotless, hauntingly so, and had a distinct air of disuse that made the hair on her arms raise. On instinct her hands slipped into her pockets, fingers closing around small smoke bombs in case she needed a distraction. Her steps are light as she moved through the small flat, eyes and ears alert for any inkling of danger.

But the apartment was clean aside from the thin layer of dust that clung to her fingertips as she brushed her hand over his dresser, pressing the secret button fitted neatly up and over the back.

A section of the wall moved away revealing his alter ego, the suit inside more ragged and stitched up when she had last seen it but not enough so to explain the unsettling feeling.

Something was wrong and she needed to find out what.

Artemis preformed another search of the apartment, this time more invasive, leaving no area unchecked. Inside the second drawer beside his bed  she found his phone and communicator, both dead, and that was when the unease really began to set in. Dick was rarely caught with either of them dead, let alone both, and never was he without at least one of them on his person. Unless there was foul play.

She redoubled her efforts, wishing she had the forethought to bring either Barbara or Tim with her; not that she had expected the need for a thorough search of the place when she had set off.

As she knelt to check under the bed something finally caught her eye, the slightest tear the bedsheet, mostly covered by the overhang of the comforter. She knew better than to ignore it, especially considering the people she was dealing with.

She flicked away the sheet revealing a wider tear, one that pushed into the mattress, and drew a small bolt from her crossbow, tearing the hole large enough to slip her hand in. Almost immediately her fingers bump against razor sharp metal and she gingerly moved to grab it, careful not to cut herself.

Once out it was unmistakable, the curve was burned into her memory from her time working with the Light. And the tips of the S insignia were stained with the rust color of dried blood.

_If only they were there for him, then maybe they’d know where he is._

Dick Grayson was officially declared missing on November 11, 2016. It would have been Wally’s 22nd birthday.

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thank you so much for all the feedback! Special thanks to bathandbodyworks, Igodownwithmyshipz, and Megan for the comments. Secondly, I can not promise solid updates on this, I only have a bare bones plot to follow and I’ll be on vacation for about two weeks, away from Internet. With all of that amount of the way, I hope you enjoy!

**Blüdhaven**

**November 6, 02:42 EST**

Attempting to control crime in Blüdhaven had become increasingly more and more ruthless over the passing of months. Of course it wasn’t that the city was suddenly producing exponentially more criminals or that they’ve gotten particularly more advanced or difficult, Nightwing knew. He also knew why.

He wouldn’t admit it to himself, or out loud.

That doubles every other day as an officer were taking their toll.

That some of his ever increasing array of injuries needed more than a handful of stitches and a bandage.

That the lack of a decent meal and spotty, nightmare-riddled sleep sapped away strength he desperately needed.

That he was grieving in the worst possible way, isolating himself and pushing away everyone close to him.

That he was grieving just like Batman.

_I don’t want to be the Batman._

He physically shook away the thought as he approached his apartment, the cut on his arm shouting for attention. It was an awkward position for stitching but he’d have to make do.

Despite the injury he’s able to slide in through his window with relative ease.

“Hello Nightwing.” The batarang is dodged with ease, biting into the wall just next to the intruders head. Deathstroke looked decidedly unperturbed. “Would you rather I call you Richard?”

Two more projectiles join the first, spaced apart on the white wall.

“I see the Bat forget to teach you about proper manners for entertaining guests.” The villain drew his sword, blade making a _shing_ sound as it’s drawn. Nightwing’s hands slid to his escrima sticks.

“Said the murderer who broke into my apartment.” Deathstroke chuckled.

“It’s contract, nothing personal.” The assassin was on him in an instant, sword swung up at a diagonal angle at his midsection. He’s able to block the strike but it’s a feint, and the mercenary’s elbow slammed into his nose.

It’s an immediate starburst of pain and the advantage is pressed, the vigilante thrown, crashing, through the doorway into his bedroom. He’s able to make a sloppy recovery but Deathstroke wasn’t interested in letting him take a breather, specialized shurikens thrown in an arc. One bit into his shoulder, others thudding into the wall.

“What do you want Deathstroke?” Nightwing snapped as he pulled the weapon from his arm, hiding it in his gauntlet. His pulse raced, it was clear to see he was outmatched, tired and weak as he was. His best bet would be to call for help but it was unlikely he’d be given a chance.

“There are some people interested in talking to you is all.” He replied, conversationally. Nightwing slid his foot back to a more steady stance as the mercenary closed in again, brutal blows exchanged as he’s crowded against the wall.

It was a losing fight, the bird themed hero barely able to keep up in just blocking strikes, let alone getting an attack in edgewise. He’s winded as a knee strike found his stomach, hands grabbing his shoulders and throwing him against the bed frame.

His head hit the wood of his headboard and he’s forced to drop his escrima sticks to catch himself on the mattress. Deathstroke tuts, shaking his head.

“I was expecting more of a challenge, this is almost a waste of my talents.” He mocked, watching as Nightwing worked to right himself, carefully sliding the shuriken from his gauntlet into the mattress, a clue for when someone came looking for him. _If_ they came.

“You caught me on a bad day. Want to try again tomorrow?” He quipped, circling towards the door. A loss was inevitable at this point, but the less time spent in his room the less time Slade would spend removing evidence there. The less likely he’d be to find the tear in the mattress and further shatter a chance to be rescued.

“I’m sure I’ll have another time to test  your abilities, should everything go properly.” He definitely didn’t like the sound of that.

“I don’t suppose you want to share your meaning?” He was on him again and a harsh punch to face had him seeing stars. Another had him on his back, one eye staring down from behind the mask.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” A boot came up and slammed back down, darkness overtaking him.

**Undisclosed Location**

**November 6, 21:16**

When Nightwing came to his surroundings were dark, dark in the way of a closed room without windows or light. It was difficult to tell how long had passed, the haze that hung over him betraying a likely concussion and the presence of drugs, never a good combination.

He kept his breathing steady as he worked to clear his head, maintaining the outward appearance of still being unconscious as he took in his surroundings. It was suffocatingly dark, as noticed before, and there wasn’t anything he visually make out. His hands were chained, wrapped in thick anti meta cuffs and bolted to the wall behind him and likewise he could feel the heavyweight of a collar around his neck. It felt the same as when Artemis, Tigress at the time, had snapped the inhibitor collar on him before the mountain blew.

He mentally shook away the memory, focusing back to his current predicament. His feet and legs were free and the pull on the chain connecting him to the wall felt long enough to allow him to stand if he wished, but little else.

He moved his focus beyond himself, using training long ago ingrained into by his mentor. The air is stiff and stale, suggesting there was little airflow in the room. He spread his fingers behind him, feeling cool, smooth stone. Wherever he was it was likely naturally cool then, eliminating little from the list of places the mercenary may have taken him.

“I see our guest has awakened.” The voice came from in front of him, the lights blaring to life blinding him even as his mask worked to compensate. He squinted at the opening door. “Hello Nightwing, we have much to discuss.”

“ _Savage_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! If anyone has any ideas, feedback, or just want to talk about Young Justice (season 3 soon guys, I’m going to cry) please leave me a comment or hit me up at my tumblr spirit-of-the-fox! Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> ~Fate


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay that vacation was absolutely amazing and I loved every second of it! The only problem is this chapter is the last one I have typed up and ready to go, meaning the next update may take a little longer ^^" I hope you all like it though! Special thanks to mielipieli and Cremetome for the lovely comments, they're always a huge motivator!

  
**The Watchtower**  
**November 11, 4:11 EST**

It had been a little over an hour since Artemis had called Kaldur, asking him to gather the founders of the team as soon as possible.

There must have been something in her voice because he doesn’t ask questions, promising instead that he’d meet her soon at the Watchtower.

That was where she was now, pacing anxious circles in the briefing room, trying to keep her gaze from straying to the memorial area. She didn’t have the time to be distracted, not with Dick missing.

The computer announces the name of her company and she turned, watching as the group joined her. They all must have sensed her nervous energy, gathering quickly and without wasted greetings.

“Artemis, what’s going on? You seem distressed.” M’Gann asked, a frown pulling at her face. Artemis took a deep breath to steady herself before pulling out the shuriken, holding it up for everyone to see.

“I went to Dick’s apartment, this was the only thing I found there, buried into the mattress.” The degrees in the room seems to drop, heroes all tensing in unison. “Deathstroke took him and we don’t know who he was taken as.” The gravity quickly sunk in, with the question of whether they were searching for Nightwing or Dick Grayson they’d have to tread much more carefully and with fewer heroes to keep his identity safe. Not to mention the added variable of a timeline, they didn’t know how long ago exactly he was taken, or for what purpose.

Conner’s fists were drawn tight, a scowl drawn on his face.

“We should have been there.” He voiced the thought they were all thinking. Kaldur set a hand on his shoulder, expression set and serious.

“Reflecting on that will not help our friend. We need to make a plan and move quickly, the sooner we can identify Deathstroke’s intentions and Dick’s location the sooner we can rescue him and rectify our mistakes.”

M’Gann clapped her hands together, anxious energy channeled into the movement. “Where do we start?”

Artemis exchanges a glance with Kaldur, realizing with a start that in this particular group she filled the secondary command position.

“First, we need to notify Batman.” Artemis bit her lip. Gotham has been out of control since the Reach had come and, while the true Batman was gone, Dick had been stretched to thinly to give the city all the attention she required. From reports it had only just begun to finally return to a semblance of normal. It could undo months of work to pull his attention entirely from the city. “Hopefully he’ll be able to spare Robin or Batgirl, this is their expertise.”

“We should also contact Zatanna, she may have a spell that could locate him or Deathstroke, similar to when she found the source of magic at Roanoke.” Everyone nodded and Artemis’s eye caught the grotto, the blue-tinged holo of the original Kid Flash stealing her attention. It felt like a vice had gripped her heart, she couldn’t lose someone else.

Arms wrapped around her from the side, red hair nestled against her shoulder.

“We’re going to find him Artemis.” M’Gann reassured, giving her shoulders a light squeeze. “They’re never going to-“ Her words took a harsh edge, the kind of fearful slant that was the M’Gann that had ruined Kaldur’s psyche. She swallowed. “He’s going to be okay.” The archer took a second longer to look at the hologram, letting out a sigh as she turned into the embrace.

“Yeah, you’re right. We’ll find him.” There wasn’t another choice.

**Blüdhaven**  
**November 11, 19:21 EST**

The call with Batman had been a strained affair, the elder team members familiar enough with the senior league member to read the distress that few others could discern. It was, however, successful, a plan made that lead them to this point. The small group of heroes, plus Barbara, all in civvies made their way back to Dick’s apartment to allow the Bat to do her own sweep of the apartment as the rest of them asked around for when the vigilante, and the cop, where last seen.

It took some doing, some bribes, and some long hours, but by the end they had more information than before.

Barbara, with her enhanced training, was able to pick out tiny discrepancies in the paint and slight chips in the drywall, nearly covered up.

The police station had last seen Dick Grayson after he pulled a double on November 5th at the station, and had assumed he had fallen ill afterwards, since he didn’t look very well and seemed to be overworking.

The city and her thugs had last seen Nightwing early November 6th and heard nothing from their vigilante since.

It painted a worrying picture, based on what they’d learned it seemed likely Deathstroke had set up an ambush for Nightwing, at his own apartment. It was entirely likely the mercenary knew his secret identity, a prospect that complicated everything.

“What now?” Conner half growled, frustration similar to his earlier years bleeding through. Kaldur rubbed a knuckle to his tired eyes, looking older than his 22 years.

“We will contact Zatanna and tell her of the situation to see if she can offer any assistance, then we will rest. We are of little use to anyone exhausted.”

“I’ll go talk to her, it’ll probably be best to hear it in person.” Artemis volunteered, ignoring the deeper pull of the frown on Kaldur’s face. She could feel his worry as if she was a telepath. “And then after that I’ll get some rest.” She added, pointedly. He nodded, conceding.

“Very well, Artemis will inform Zatanna and we will proceed from there.” Artemis didn’t stay around long after that, stepping into the concealed zeta tube and transporting herself to New York City. It was easy enough to catch a cab in the never sleeping city and she gave it the address, staring out the window at the dazzling lights as they went.

The taxi hit the brakes hard, pulling off the side of the road. Artemis blinked, not realizing she had nearly drifted off, and quickly paid and tipped the driver, climbing out. The car peeled away the moment the door shut and she sighed, looking up at the apartment complex. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have the time please let me know what you thought :) Thanks for reading~
> 
> ~Fate


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